


Into the West

by Moit



Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Grief, Heartbreak, M/M, Slash, implied character death (mild)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-28
Updated: 2012-09-28
Packaged: 2018-10-16 08:55:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10567911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moit/pseuds/Moit
Summary: Frodo sails West alone, but time does not mend all wounds.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [claudia603](https://archiveofourown.org/users/claudia603/gifts).



> This is for [](http://claudia603.livejournal.com/profile)[claudia603](http://claudia603.livejournal.com/)'s birthday. I hadn't originally intended to write you such angsty fic for your birthday, but we know why I did. This is for me, for you, and for Mudslide. I figure old school angsty F/A is better than none at all. Bonus points if my writing makes you cry.

Valmar was a beautiful city, the most beautiful Frodo had ever seen. There his body grew strong, the heavy thoughts eased from his mind. He felt almost whole.

But his heart still ached.

When he sailed to the Undying Lands, he left behind his friends, the remainder of his family, and most devastatingly, the Man that he loved.

Eventually, he had to tell himself that what he and Aragorn shared on those long, cold nights of the quest was nothing more than two desperate souls sharing a moment of comfort and warmth in the midst of an impending apocalypse, for when they returned, Aragorn assumed his rightful place on the throne of Gondor as King Elessar, and married his beloved Arwen, who sacrificed immortality for him. Frodo knew he could never compete with the love that they shared. What did he, a simple Hobbit from the Shire, have to offer the King of the White City when he had a Minnónar who was willing to give up immortality for him? Frodo had already given all that he was, and still, it wasn't enough.

After setting the realm back to rights, Frodo settled his own affairs, left Sam with the Red Book of Westmarch, and sailed to Valinor with Bilbo and Gandalf. It was there that he found strength and healing, but even The City of Bells could not heal Frodo's broken heart.

It had been at least a hundred years since the last ship arrived in Valmar when another sailed into the harbour. The Elves of the city flooded the streets to investigate the curious appearance. To Frodo's knowledge, all of the Elves, save for Aragorn's Arwen, had sailed West. Even Legolas and Gimli had arrived some time after Frodo, Bilbo, and Galdalf. It was with even greater surprise, then, that Frodo watched as a stooped, white-haired King Elessar shuffled his way slowly off the ship, leaning heavily on a carved cane. He would have been 210 by Frodo's calculations, and Frodo's numbers were never wrong.

Elessar's rheumy old eyes searched the crowd keenly. The Elves parted to allow through the street, bowing in his wake. Eventually the crush parted to show Frodo standing alone, looking not a day over 33. The wrinkled and aged King kept his eyes on the Hobbit as he slowly closed the distance between them.

All of the words that Frodo wanted to say stuck together in his throat and he felt his eyes begin to water. When Elessar stopped in front of him, the tears were falling freely from Frodo's eyes. The Hobbit watched as the Man lowered himself slowly and painfully to one knee, evening out their height difference.

Elessar placed one gnarled hand gently against Frodo's fair cheek, the echo of a gesture from another time. "Why do you weep?" he asked, his voice the same deep timbre that haunted Frodo's dreams.

"I have missed you so much," Frodo replied, almost unable to speak for the emotion in his voice.

"I promised I would never leave you," Elessar said gently.

Frodo recalled the words as clearly as if Aragorn said them yesterday. His Ranger had hugged him tightly, then stared into his eyes as he said the words. And then he strode purposefully out of the room and married Arwen.

"We all have a duty, Frodo. You had to bear the burden of The One Ring. My burden was to assume the rule of my Kingdom. The Realm is at peace now, Frodo. Why are you not?" The confusion deepened in Elessar's eyes. He took his hand from Frodo's cheek and laid it against the Hobbit's small chest. "You are not at peace here."

"I could never be at peace without you."

A small smile curled amongst the lines around Elessar's mouth. "My dear Frodo, I have never left you. As long as I am here," he patted Frodo's chest twice, "I am with you."

Unable to resist any longer, Frodo threw his arms around Elessar's neck and buried his face in the juncture of the Elessar's shoulder, inhaling the all-too-familiar scent of the Man. Elessar reciprocated by wrapping his arms around Frodo's small frame, his grip no longer as strong as it once was for the age that crippled his body.

"I am always with you, my dear Frodo. Always."


End file.
